


the aftermath

by izzyasavestheday (stilessexual)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 04:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10267961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilessexual/pseuds/izzyasavestheday
Summary: These are the days following the battle against Valentine.This is Simon breaking down and picking up the pieces.~~“It’s killing her,” Simon whispered. “We tried. We tried so hard to be together –to be happy, to forget about you and R-Raphael. But we couldn’t and we couldn’t turn off our feelings. So, yeah. We broke up.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't know how to tag this exactly, but the beginning is a breakup scene between Simon and Clary, and there are conversations about the ""sibling"" story line thing which I felt super weird writing. so yeah, read with caution. 
> 
> This work is unbeta'd.

Dawn was fast approaching. Simon could feel the impending doom of it crawling on his skin despite the fact that he no longer needed to fear the sun.

 “Clary,” Simon rasped. How does he fix this? How do they ever come back from what the Shadow World’s done to them? What he’s done to them? “ _Clary_.”

She watched him with those big green eyes that he loved so much (bright, bright, bright with tears that he’d caused, G-d damn him) a sad little smile stretched across her lips.

“Clary,” he said her name again. How could saying a name hurt so much? Why did it drag –like a dead body— off his tongue? “Come on. Come on, talk to me.”  

“Yeah,” she finally, an eternity later, replied. “Yeah, I hear you. I know, it’s just—

“Yeah?”   

“I just never thought we’d have this conversation, you know? Everyone else, maybe. Just not us.” she said, smile wobbly. “We seemed inevitable. Meant to be.”

She looked down at her knotted hands, sad little smile still in place.

A tiny little sob escaped her mouth, “I know it’s stupid now but I thought I’d marry you, you know?”

“G—

He covered his face with his hands, willed the ground to open up and swallow him, willed his final resting place to be the docks beside Jade Wolf.

Here Lies Simon, The Bastard Who Broke His Best Friend’s Heart.

There was something, _something_ about that moment, something unutterable about it. Simon didn’t know the words to unravel the emotions gathering in his chest, let alone speak them into existence. The way the words slipped unbidden past Clary’s lips. The way G-d’s name wouldn’t budge past his throat no matter how hard he tried. No matter how much he needed Him.

How does he fix this? How do they come back from this?

“It’s stupid,” she whispered again. He quickly grabbed her hands.

“It’s not,” he replied furiously. “It’s not. Clary, I love you so much—

 “Just,” she hiccupped through the tears, “Just not enough?”

“No, no. G- no.” he shook his head. “Different, Clary. I love you different. I don’t know when it happened  –I would have never, _never_ put you through this if I’d known—

“Simon,” she said his name so softly, so lovely. “It’s okay. I know. I know.”

He swiped a hard hand across his face –How was this body so unholy, so other, that it cried blood? How? “I love you different. So much. So much. Just different.”

She brought his hands to her lips and pressed forgiveness into his knuckles.

(In Time, there would be forgiveness. If Time was kind enough to let them survive _this_ , there would be so much more to live for –so much more than the both of them crying into each others’ arms, aching aching aching, for a future they were both too unholy to ever touch again.)

(A future where he’d never met Raphael and never fucked the potential of that to hell and Clary never met Jace and never knew him let alone loved him and Simon never died and Clary’s mom never died and and and and —endless, endless, endless. They were doomed from the very beginning. This was never meant to be.)

“Me too, Simon.” He cradled her face in his hands and thumbed away the stray tears. “When you told me how you felt, God, it felt like salvation, you know? It felt like you saved me.”  

He smiled at her (he’d never been so sad in his G-d damn life) at the makeup smudged beneath her eyes. She was so, _so_ beautiful.

“I know you don’t want to talk about this,” he whispered. She shut her eyes against his words because they both knew; they both knew what he was going to say and what she needed to speak into existence. “I know it is the hardest thing in the world, but you can tell me. You can tell me anything. You’ll never lose me Clary Fray. Never.”

Big, big green eyes. The grief of the world reflected in them. She pressed her lips tightly together.

“I can’t,” she replied, hoarsely. “I can’t say it, it’s disgusting, I can’t—

He grabbed her trembling, flailing hands and said, “There’s no one here. It’s just you and me and on my mother’s life, I will always love you.” and then he waited out the fallout of his words.

Big old eyes closed suddenly, shaking shaking shaking. Clary fell apart little by little and he knew he’d never understand this kind of pain no matter how many nightmares he had of his Clan members burning to death—

(Or of Raphael walking away from him. Again.)

“How is this real?” she whispered, crazed. “How’re we talking about this? We’re not even _talking_ about it, oh my god, oh my god—

She ripped the words out of her throat like barbed wire until her entire body was shaking with a grief so powerful it nearly blew her away. Simon held on to her, willed his weak unholy hands to anchor her to down to earth. He willed his love for her, no matter how different, to matter.

“I got you,” he hugged her to his body. He wished he felt warm to her. “I got you. I got you.”

Clary’s pained keening –over her mother, over Jace, over the loss, the sheer amount of loss they’d suffered— sounded much like a wolf’s, fitting, considering where they were. He hugged her tight, tight, tight in the desperate hope that he’d somehow keep her together.

(Despite the fact that they both knew it wasn’t Simon that she needed.)

The sun rose behind them. The sun always rose, despite them.  

~

Sunlight. Sunlight. Sunlight.

A miracle, G-d’s eternal burning gift to mankind, Simon would never take it for granted no matter how long his existence went on.

He made his way into the Institute. Ignoring, desperately, the anxiety wrapping itself around his throat –the phantom pain he still felt there, days after Valentine came and happened to all of them. Some people are like that, aren’t they? They happen to you.  As soon as he entered, he saw Izzy in the distance and made his way to her.

(Raphael. Raphael was the ghost that he carried with him everywhere.)

“Hey,” Simon said. He made the mistake of touching her arm only for her to jerk away from him in fright. Simon quickly pulled his hands away from her and raised them for her to see. “It’s just me, Izzy.”

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply for a long while. “I’m sorry, Simon.”

He watched her steadily. There were deep shadows beneath her eyes and a tremble in her hands that went away more and more with each passing day. She’d been fine, with time, but the sight of her so still and so sad still hurt to witness.  

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled, hoped it put her at ease. “I’m looking for Alec?”

“He and Jace were doing weapons inventory earlier.” Her brow furrowed. Simon knew what she wanted to ask. He waited. He waited. He’d never been so good at silence before, but having to suffer a slow, painful death really did a number on him apparently.

“Is Raphael—

She pressed her red, red lips together and shook her head roughly. “You know what? Forget it. Forget I asked. What a stupid question.”

Simon answered her anyways. “He seems okay. I haven’t spoken to him but Lily told me that he’s finally off your –he’s off the blood.” He looked around at the Shadowhunters working around them. There was something unifying about the aftermath of Valentine happening to them –no one batted an eye at his presence anymore. “I don’t actually know, though. I don’t think he wants to see me.”

She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Don’t be so stupid, Simon. Of course he does.”

“What?”

“Forget it,” she muttered again. “I gotta go.”

“Izzy,” He made sure not to touch her this time. “Izzy, I know it’s a dumb question but – I just wanted to ask, are you okay?”

“Oh, Simon.” She pressed gentle fingers to his jaw, suddenly all soft around the edges. “Don’t worry about me, mi amor. I’ll be fine.”

“I—

She walked away. Simon watched her leave until she disappeared down a hallway. It was odd, he no longer wanted to be with Clary and the sight of Isabel no longer tugged hot at his belly—

(Raphael still did, though.)

Simon shook his head roughly, “Alec. I’m here for Alec.”

Despite the weeks that Simon had spent at the Institute, the endless twists and turns never failed to confuse him. He had a vague recollection of the direction of the weapons room but he relied heavily on his hearing ability. He hoped that the sounds of their voices would lead him to them.  

Simon didn’t exactly think it through, did he?

“Jace,” Alec frustrated tone came through loud and clear. They sounded like they had been having the same argument forever. Simon sped up to find them. “This isn’t –this isn’t, you have to tell her.”  

“No,” Jace replied. “I don’t have to do anything. You didn’t see her, Alec. She’s so happy with Simon.”

Simon slowed down to a stop just outside of the room; he titled his head in confusion at the direction their conversation had taken. He knew he should make his presence known, but—

“What does her relationship with Simon have to do with it? By the angel, this isn’t just your secret.”  Alec snapped. “She deserves to know you’re not her brother—

Oh. _Oh._

A moment. A moment of pure, electrifying shock went through Simon and then—

He obviously laughed. Loudly. Nearly hysterical, if he were being honest with himself, but could anyone really blame him? Alec and Jace quickly made their way out of the room, with the latter of the two pale with shock. The pain that Jace must have been enduring wasn’t amusing in the slightest but Simon laughed on nonetheless.

“Simon,” Jace said, slow. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh my g--” Simon choked, but it didn’t bother him, not when this was happening. Ridiculous. Ridiculous. He told them as much. “This is so stupid. This whole thing is so stupid. Why don’t you people just _talk_ to each other?”

Alec stepped forward cautiously, “Simon, what did you hear?”

Simon wiped away a bloody tear and patted Alec’s shoulder. The guy really endured so much from them all, “I am exhausted. I am so tired. Like, bone-deep exhaustion type of exhausted. Ever since I have been shoved into this hell universe, it’s been one disaster after the next. But this? The Clary-and-Jace clusterfuck? It doesn’t have to be a disaster.”

Jace shook his head slowly, “Simon, I don’t know what you—

“We broke up, Jace.” Simon said. “Clary and I broke up this morning. Like, for good. It was super dramatic and we both cried.”

“What?” Jace asked, incredulous. “Why would you—

“Because I’m in love with Raphael,” Simon rasped. He wondered, still, how did speaking certain words hurt so much? How did speaking this truth out into the world feel like an ending? “And she’s in love with you and it’s killing her.”

He was crying, again, damn him. Damn them all.

“It’s killing her,” Simon whispered. “We tried. We tried so hard to be together –to be happy, to forget about you and R-Raphael. But we couldn’t and we couldn’t turn off our feelings. So, yeah. We broke up.”

Alec scrubbed his face roughly. Simon really felt for the guy.

“Alec’s right, Jace.” Simon wanted to sleep forever. “This isn’t your secret. She thinks she’s in love with her brother, do you know how completely fucked that is? Fuck. _Fuck_. Go tell her. Now.”

Jace stood there staring at him, the giant dumbfounded oaf.

“Jace,” Simon exhaled roughly. “What the hell are you waiting for? Go!”

So, he went –Alec and Simon watched him quickly disappear through the endless halls of the Institute.

Simon dragged a hand over his face and turned to Alec, “I have a message from the Downworld.”

Simon watched as the role of the concerned brother melted off of Alec’s shoulder and in its place was the leader the Downworld needed him to be –a backwards shift in his shoulders, a tilt in his chin, a different glint in his eyes. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, indeed.

“This can’t happen again,” Simon told him seriously. “But it will. Maybe not tomorrow, or the day after but something like this will happen again and we cannot be caught off guard. In the battle against Valentine, the Downworld lost the most.” Simon’s voice cracked as the bodies of the people he’d come to know and love flashed before his eyes, “We lost everything. Everything, Alec.”  

Alec’s jaw worked minutely, “I’m sorry, Simon. I truly am.”

“I know you are.” Simon nodded. From Alec, it was a kindness. But it was a kindness he wasn’t sure he deserved. “We want to work with the Nephilim to prevent this sort of thing from ever happening again, but only on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“You,” Simon grinned. “We’ll only work with you, Alec.”

He blinked once, twice—

“Simon,” he said, “I’m not even the head of the Institute, the _Clave_ —

Simon shrugged, “No offense, but fuck the Clave. These are the new accords. The Downworld will only work with Alexander Lightwood.”

He pulled the documents they’d drawn up out of his jacket pocket and gave them to Alec. “It’s in writing actually. We won’t work with the Clave anymore. Officially.”

Alec gaped as he quickly skimmed through the papers, “Why though? Why me?”

Simon clapped Alec’s shoulder, “You’re a good guy and you’re good at what you do. And well—

“What?”

“You look at us and see people,” Simon said. “You see our families and our friends –not instincts and demon blood. You see us. Not many people in the Clave do.”

Alec pressed his lips tightly together. His eyes were suspiciously wet. Simon really, desperately wanted to make fun of him but honestly? He was holding back tears too at this point. He’d been crying so much in the last few days he was basically parched.  

“Ok,” Alec whispered roughly. “Ok, yeah. Let’s do this. Fuck the Clave.”  

~

_“Don’t be so stupid, Simon. Of course he does.”_

Raphael. Raphael was something else entirely, wasn’t he?

Simon no longer needed to breathe. So much so, that, to his horror, his body was quickly unlearning the habit. But the mere sight of Raphael –bathed in moonlight, all soft with exhaustion, curls sweeping across his forehead— was more than enough to knock the wind right out of him.

“How did Alec take it?”

“Good,” Simon nodded mechanically. “Better than we planned he would, actually.”

Raphael nodded and looked down at his hands. The Raphael Simon had come to know (and love and love and love) would have never broken eye-contact, would have never given into such a display of surrender –but this Raphael was bent with the shame of Izzy. With the grief of losing so many of his Clan.

G-d.

(Mercy, mercy, mercy. Please, have mercy.)  

He missed him so much. He missed the Clan so, so desperately. The secret meetings he had with them were no longer enough. So much –so much had happened, hadn’t it? They’d all lost so much. He wanted to go home.

Simon just wanted to go home.

So, he stuck his foot in his mouth, obviously.

“Miss me yet?” Simon asked cheekily, mistakenly, going by the way Raphael rolled his eyes –like, impressively rolled his eyes, so hard, his whole body rolled back and away with him. “No, fuck, no, no. I’m sorry. Please don’t go.”

Raphael’s eyes closed like he could no longer bear the weight of keeping them open. “What do you want, Simon?”

There’s power in the way the people we love say our names, right? There has to be. There has to be a reason for the reaction the mere murmur of his name off of Raphael’s tongue evoked.

Simon opened his mouth to answer, but he was scared, he was so scared—

 _Be brave, Simon._  

Clary’s voice, at the best of times and the worst of times, rung in his ears. Be brave. Be brave. He wasn’t brave but dear god, was he tired, was he wanting. She’d made him promise, she’d made him swear, that some good would come out of their ending. She’d made him swear that he’d come clean to Raphael, about _everything._

“I want to come home,” he finally whispered. “I want to come home.”

Raphael rocked slightly against the words –silence, silence, silence.

“Still?” he finally asked. “Even after –after Isabel?”

Raphael said her name carefully, cradled it on his tongue like china glass.  

“I –what?”

“After all the grief I gave you,” Raphael went ruefully, “about control. About keeping your thirst in check. All the training I put you through. I go and just, I ruin _everything_ —

Raphael ran a quick hand through his hair, dislodging it of the product that kept it neat. It was a movement Simon had never witnessed on the other before –nervous, messy, so achingly human. It tugged at Simon’s frayed heartstrings like nothing else.

“You’re not –you’re not perfect, Raphael.” Simon said. “No, no, don’t roll your eyes. For once, just listen to me—

“I always listen to you.”

Simon’s mouth clapped shut painfully. “Okay. Yeah, okay. You’re not the mistakes you make. I know that sounds like some fortune cookie _bullshit_ but you’re not. You’re Raphael Santiago, for fuck’s sake. You took over the Clan to protect us from Camille. You cook your baby sister’s home a meal every Sunday, even though she doesn’t know who you are—

“I told you that,” Raphael breathed. “When did I tell you that?”

“First training session,” Simon remembered. “I was a hysterical wreck about not getting to ever see my family again so you told me stories about yours. You told me about how you got to witness their happiness.”

“I don’t,” Raphael said, “I don’t even remember that.”

“You fucked up,” Simon whispered. “You fucked up seriously. But it’s not the end of the world. There’s still forgiveness here. There’s always forgiveness. You might be a vampire, but you’re –fuck, you were human first, Raphael. You get to fuck up every couple of decades.”

Raphael laughed, despite himself it seemed.

“How’re you and the redheaded Shadowhunter doing?”

Simon rolled his eyes at Raphael’s insistence to ‘forget’ Clary’s name all the time, “We’re fine. I mean – we broke up. But we’re gonna be okay, I think.”

Silence. Silence. Silence.

“Why’d you break up?” Raphael asked slowly.

_Be brave, Simon. Be brave._

“Why do you think?” he replied slowly.

“I can’t,” Raphael whispered. “I can’t read your mind, Simon.”

Simon hummed. “Yeah, yeah okay. I’m in love with you. I love you. –you know that, though.”

–and shit, _shit_ , Raphael’s eyes welled with unshed tears.

“I don’t know deserve you,” he murmured.

Simon laughed loudly, “Look around you, Raphael. No one here is walking around sin free, you know? I don’t deserve you either if we’re being super honest with each other. I fucked up everything in the first place.”

“Shut up,” Raphael shook his head. “Shut up. You are so –you’re so good—

“Am I?” Simon asked. “Then tell me how you feel about me.”

“I love you.” Raphael replied firmly. “More than you know, Simon—

Simon surged forward and pressed his lips to Raphael’s –imperfect, perfect, perfect, perfect.

(Mercy, mercy, mercy)

They met like –like everything, everything finally coming together. There was nothing, no pain, no heartache, and no loss here –nothing else, nothing but them. It was just them, bathed in moonlight, blessed by a kindness neither knew what to do with. They touched each other with a deep reverence, a heartbreaking gentleness.

The sun rose. The sun set –despite them, despite their pain, Time went on.

But Raphael and Simon, from that day on, well—

They loved each other, eternally, under the moonlight.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you, so much, for reading. I've been really overwhelmed with school recently and writing these is such a good outlet. If you have any prompt ideas, drop them in a comment, I'll see if I can write them :)


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